Yesterday was the midpoint for the National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo). I’m still not sure what inspired me to jump into this bit of nonsense, though I think I’ll lay the blame on TMC, Ms Return to Rural, who I believe said she was going to jump in. Then I openly mulled it, and Amurin and Jules double-dog-dared me, and well . . . you know what happens when I’m double-dog-dared.
Like many who partake in this madness, I didn’t really have a story, to be speak of, that desperately needed to be told. Eventually though, a story started to emerge. And then some characters started developing, and fortunately they brought along with them a plot. And then they started talking. Oh lord, did they start talking. I mean, I’ve been trying to hurry them along, since I would like to get to the part of the story I’m most excited about. But no . . . And then they brought friends along with them. I mean, come on guys! I’m trying to tell a story here, and y’all just keep yammering on.
It’s been a challenging month, as I’ve already explained. I would think these sort of insane challenges such as NaNo are best accomplished when there is a modicum of normality in your life. But, between the agony (boo Prop 8!) and ecstasy (yay Obama!) of the election and my own professional limbo, it’s been hard finding any kind of regular pattern to my writing times. Mornings are probably best, but I’ve opted to avoid the writing by laying in bed dreading to go to work. Which of course is terribly effective.
But, I am happy to report that as of last night I had 22,000 words. Sure, I’m not quite at the 25,000 mark where I should be, but I’m still within a shot of finishing my 50,000 words by the end of November.
It’s been an interesting experience. I’ve learned I cannot write fiction within hearing shot of any human voices. I thought it would be fun to go the write-ins or hang out in cafes and look all writerly and shit. Turns out I pretty much need to total silence in order to pry anything creative out of my brain and put it on the page. I’ve learned that I’m not terribly literary – at least at this point in the game. My prose is pretty damn pedestrian. I would sell my soul, no my house (oh wait I don’t own that) uh . . . how about one of the rabbits. No, you gotta take ’em both since they are finally bonded. What was I talking about? Oh, right. Let’s just say I would gladly take any of Amurin’s discarded prose and call it mine.
Oh my, look at the time. I need to get into the office. I still don’t have a start date for the new job. Apparently my boss wants to keep me until the end of the year, which is not OK with new boss. And frankly, I need to tell both of those bosses I need some damn time off. So, I think I have to get old daddy and new mommy on one conference call to discuss my custody. Oy.